Computing

To ease the traffic
and the youths to drive on fast track,
the flyovers bulge over
Old cities’ worn out stomach

True, there is great thrill
to drive over the flyover,
But what one misses
at a traffic junction
is beyond one’s imagination

One misses to see a sensitive soul
giving a helping hand to a blind or an aged
to cross over the wide road,
Small boys trying to sell
the hot news of the day –
escape of a fugitive, filmy gossip,
rape of a domestic help by the top cop,
playing down an honest man's hunger strike onto death,
corrupt politico’s loss of public faith,
last night’s spectacular IPL win
and hope of the poor is as ever thin…

One misses the sound of music
of a dozen stilettos trooping across the road
Even if the light is green for one to go,
yet he does not press the accelerator
and take a relaxed view from top to toe…

The flower boy tempts you
to buy a bunch of fresh roses for your beau,
A poor man offers a heavy discount
on the duster cloths that appear very new,

The young date often ruffles her locks
to cover half of her lover’s face,
The young mother holds her baby up
exuding charm and immense grace…

Sitting an extra moment at traffic signal
one witnesses a world complete in every sense-
sympathy for the poor, charms of love,
struggle of the marginalized,
that by exchange of a few seconds
the flyover cunningly robs!